


Stowaway

by Gumnut



Series: Gumnut’s Thunderbirds Episode Tags [5]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Brothers, Episode Tag, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 10:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19060570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gumnut/pseuds/Gumnut
Summary: How could he possibly screw up even more than he already had? SPOILERS for 3.12





	Stowaway

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Stowaway  
> Author: Gumnut  
> 2 Jun 2019  
> Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS  
> Rating: Teen  
> Summary: How could he possibly screw up even more than he already had?  
> Word count: 2921  
> Spoilers & warnings: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 EPISODE 12  
> Timeline: Episode Tag  
> Author’s note: I really enjoyed the episode, so I just had to write something. This is mostly brothers being brothers. I hope you enjoy it :D  
> Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

“Gordon did what?!”

“Borrowed Thunderbird One to look for Sherbet.”

“The dog?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

Virgil stared at the hologram of his orbiting brother. “You’re kidding me.”

“No, scout’s honour.”

“Does Scott know?”

“Yes.”

“Will I have a Tracy Island to land on?”

John shrugged. “Maybe. Scott is still on his way in on Thunderbird Three. Gordon is on approach.” John’s eyes shifted to the left, obviously scanning readouts. “Assuming he manages to dock TB1 without landing her in the comms room, the Island should be safe.” A smirk. “I tend to think Gordon himself is likely a right-off.” John’s eyes shifted to something closer to serious. “You may be needed, big bro.”

Virgil sighed. “FAB.” Great. Just what he needed after spending all night on the other side of the planet disassembling a terrorist attempt. The GDF had called both him and Kayo in on this one. Kayo for her subtlety and Virgil for the opposite. Turned out that he had been less needed for his heavy lifting and more for his engineering skills. He had ended up butt up in the components of an automated harvester that had been reprogrammed to harvest more sapient crops than wheat. Yet again, he was left stunned that there were actually people on this planet who would do something like that.

Kayo had assisted the GDF in rounding up the culprits, Virgil had killed the harvester, and he’d spent the rest of the time hauling the massive chunk of machinery back out of the city to the nearest GDF base where it could be examined.

In short, he was tired, annoyed and disappointed in people.

A Scott vs. Gordon showdown was more of a headache than he needed.

Another sigh. Whatever.

Tracy Island was a welcome sight in any case and as he kicked in VTOL on approach to land, he felt some of the stress fall off his shoulders. Kayo had already beaten him home. Thunderbird Two was the slowest of all their craft, something his brothers never let him forget, but he loved her with his very soul and would take those extra few minutes over the fastest of their ships any day.

After all, who did half of them have to wait for anyway?

The solid, but soft thump as her wheels hit the tarmac and she trundled through her palm tree guard of honour, the cliff face bowing to her entry. A spin on her axis, he killed her engines and let her whine down to silence.

His shoulders dropped, he closed his eyes and took the moment to just relax.

A breath.

Another.

Pause.

Eyes open, he shoved his chair back.

Okay, next.

-o-o-o-

“You did what?!”

“C’mon, Virg, help me out here.” Gordon had the biggest puppy dog pleading look on his face Virgil had ever seen, and he’d seen doozies.

“Tell me why?”

“Because you are my brother and you love me?” Okay, was that doubt in that eye crinkle?

“I’m considering disowning you.” Virgil glared at Gordon. “You are trying to tell me that you boarded TB1 smelling like that?! And now you expect me to help you clean out her cockpit?”

“Yeeeah.”

“Before Scott gets back which is likely within the next half hour?”

“You got it in one.”

Virgil grit his teeth, but rolled his eyes. “And you wonder why I rarely let you fly my ‘bird.”

“Hey, it was an accident.”

“It always is. You said the same thing about the pink paint.”

“That was not my fault.”

“You were dating the girl, Gordon.”

“Yeeah...uh, can we get on with this? Clock’s ticking.” Gordon knew how to screw up his face to plead.

“You’ll owe me big time.”

“Anything you need, big bro.”

“Anything?”

“Just help me fix this, please.”

Another sigh. Well, it was better than a Scottonuclear detonation when the man found out. “Give me the damn cleaner.”

-o-o-o-

Gordon was right. Thunderbird One’s cockpit reeked.

Oh, he was using this for blackmail material until the end of time.

Virgil had thrown on another uniform. Working with the rocket plane always required a harness or two considering her height and there was no way Virgil was going to rely on that stupid personnel bridge Scott used. The thing was an occupational health and safety nightmare and Virgil valued his life. One of these days he’d drum that far enough into Scott’s brain to get the thing a railing.

So, it was grapple packs and harnesses and a little sonic disruption cleaning at a ninety-degree angle to the horizon.

Another thing to love about his ‘bird. She made sense. TB1 was all speed and no comfort.

Um.

Okay, so his ‘bird was all grunt and no comfort, but at least she rested parallel to the ground. None of this defying gravity crap.

“You okay up there, Virg.”

“Just fine and dandy, Gordon. You are welcome to join me.”

“Uh.”

“That’s what I thought. In debt forever, bro, forever.”

Was that a whimper he heard? Serve him damn right.

Securing himself, Virgil clambered up to Scott’s pilot seat and perched himself there. Grabbing the pack, he’d dragged up there with him, he pulled out the sonic cleaner and clamped it to the cockpit ‘ceiling’. A flick of a switch, and the subharmonics started yanking molecules from the air.

Virgil was not a fan of the gadget. It was efficient and cleaned far better than any rag with any chemical could, but it set him on edge. Something about those unheard harmonics got into his bones and grated them together. He shuddered.

Of course, nothing ensured clean more than a good wipe over, so next came the cleaner and that cleaning rag.

Another whimper.

“Gordon?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Apart from owing you my soul, yeah. Why?”

A frown. He could have sworn...

Another whimper.

Followed by a whine.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

Swinging around and out of the pilot’s chair, Virgil lowered himself to the cargo bay access and clambered in. The lights came on automatically and he peered around.

This time the whimper was a pathetic bark and Virgil was able to narrow in on Sherbet at the very bottom of the bay, snagged in the harness recess.

“Uh, Gordon?”

“Yeah?”

“You know that trouble you’re in?”

“Yeah, way to rub it in, bro.”

“Well, it just doubled.” A pendulum push, Virgil snagged the internal ladder, and hurriedly climbed down to the bottom. “You have a stowaway.”

“I’ve got what?!”

“Sherbet is in TB1’s cargo hold.”

“Shit!”

“My thoughts exactly.”

He reached the bottom and carefully made his way over to the distressed dog. “Hey, Bertie, whatcha doing down here?” More whimpering and a distraught bark. “Did Gordon kidnap you?”

“I did no such thing!”

Sherbet jumped at Gordon’s voice and snarled.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Virgil softened his tone. “Let’s get you out of there, hey?” He crouched down and offered the pug his hand. Sherbet sniffed it. “Remember me?”

Apparently, he did as Virgil’s glove was suddenly slobbered on.

Taking that as permission, the engineer began untangling the little dog. How he had managed to climb into Thunderbird One, Virgil had no idea. No doubt Gordon would be the one to answer that. If he survived Lady Penelope.

And Scott.

There may be bloodshed.

Sherbet came loose and Virgil quickly examined him for injury. There was none apparent, other than the terror in the little dog’s shaking body. A scan in the infirmary would be a good idea. Considering he had been unsecured during flight; he was lucky to be alive.

“Gordon, get your ass up here and finish the cleaning. I have a patient to attend to.”

“Is he alright?”

“You better hope so.”

-o-o-o-

Sherbet was alright. A collective sigh of relief settled across the island. A few bruises was all the scan showed. Lucky dog.

Virgil gently lifted him off the bed and held him close. He was still shaking. “It’s okay, Bertie, I promise. Now let’s get your mom on the line.”

He had expected Lady Penelope to contact them as soon as possible, but he hadn’t wanted to contact her until he had ascertained Sherbet’s condition. Now was the time to face up to the inevitable.

“Virgil?”

And there was the bell, no saving included.

“Yes, John?”

“Gordon tells me you found Sherbet.”

“Yes, and he is fine.” As if to emphasise the point, Sherbet barked at John’s hologram.

“I see.” A flicker of expression. “Lady Penelope is quite distressed. Would you like to speak to her? I think it would be better if you take this one rather than Gordon.”

“Sure.”

John smiled just a little, a vague reassurance, before the hologram flickered to, yes, a distressed Lady Penelope. “Virgil! You found him!”

“Yes, he’s right here.” He held the little dog up to make sure the holoprojector would catch him.

“Oh, thank goodness!” And to his horror, Penny wavered where she was standing. A hand shot out and steadied her, Parker appearing beside her with a stormy expression.

“He’s okay, Penny. I promise. A bit of a fright and a couple of bruises, is all. He’s perfectly fine.”

“Bruises!”

Shit.

Sherbet barked at her hologram.

Penelope’s posture straightened and a more familiar fire lit in her eyes. “Please look after him, Virgil. We will be there shortly. Parker, bring the car around.”

The hologram cut off.

Oh, hell.

-o-o-o-

“He did what?!”

Scott had had a stressful day. Space rescues were a thing, but not his favourite thing. He much preferred his ‘bird and a wide, blue sky. The silence in space was just...well, silent.

Thunderbird Three was on approach, Alan levelling her off and bringing her around for landing. All three of them were tired at least emotionally after the day’s events, and Scott, physically. Too many near misses for his comfort.

“Now, Scott. You know he is rated to fly Thunderbird One and this was an opportunity to increase his flight time in your ‘bird.” John’s expression was firm.

“I’ll increase his flight time...”

“There was no harm done. Well, very little.”

Alan glanced at him before reversing Three’s engines and starting their descent into her silo.

“Little? What little?”

“Well...”

“John!”

“Yes?”

Scott drew in a breath and his lips thinned. “Do you remember what happened last time you tried to cover for Gordon?”

“I remember perfectly and I have acted accordingly. You no longer have access to my rooms, Scott, so don’t bother trying to threaten me. I’m only the messenger, after all.”

“John.”

“Yes, Scott?”

“Oh, ho, ho, you’re playing with fire, bro.” Alan’s grin was infuriating. “Big bro looks to go all explodey.”

Scott glared at him. “Alan, mind your own.” But his little brother just grinned, immune to his glare.

“Everything has been resolved, Scott. Your cockpit is clean and Lady Penelope is on her way to the island to collect Sherbet.”

Words could stop time. “What? What do you mean my cockpit is clean? What the hell happened?”

John’s hologram smirked. “A polecat. But I’ll let Gordon explain that little incident.”

“A polecat!”

But anything more John had to say was dulled out by the roar of rocket engines killing speed as Alan lowered his bird into her silo. And John cut off the signal, the red-headed chicken.

-o-o-o-

It was a good twenty minutes of post-flight checks, a shower and clothing later before Scott made it to the comms room. Striding from the elevator he found Virgil on the lounge, an arm full of Sherbet. His brother was speaking in that familiar ‘rescuee’ tone of his, a soft rumbling, gentle reassurance. Sherbet was gazing up at him with decisive worship.

No doubt the pieces of bacon in Virgil’s other hand were also helping the situation.

“Virg? How was the harvester-?”

Both his brother and Sherbet jumped. The pug turned to glare and growl at Scott.

Virgil frowned at his brother, but looked back down, offering Sherbet a tidbit and the pug settled once again. “It’s resolved. Report later.”

“Uh, sorry.”

“He’s had quite a fright. Couldn’t have been good to be stuck in One’s cargo hold unsecured.”

Scott lowered his voice as he approached and sat opposite his brother. “Any idea how he got there?”

“Gordon must have lowered One’s stairs. It’s the only way I can think he could have possibly boarded.”

“Gordon hasn’t told you?”

“Gordon is...upset.”

“So he should be.”

“Take a breath on this one, Scott. He is well aware he has screwed up.” Brown eyes grabbed his. “Code Penny.”

“Good point.”

“She’s not happy and Gordon is beside himself.”

“So where is he?”

“I told him to go get cleaned up. Penelope will be here any minute.” Sherbet wriggled, yipped and licked Virgil’s fingers. More bacon was provided.

“Sherbet is okay?”

“A few bruises. Very lucky dog.” A pause. “Not so lucky aquanaut.”

As if to emphasise the point FAB One appeared out of the blue and with hiss of VTOL landed beside the pool.

“Well, that’s a new one.” Scott stood up and eyed the pink Rolls Royce.

Virgil rose to his feet beside him, Sherbet licking his chin. “As I said, not happy.”

“Time to face the music.” Scott let out a breath.

-o-o-o-

The music wasn’t as loud as expected. Virgil carried Sherbet downstairs to the pool, Scott beside him. To say Penelope hurried over would be an understatement, her heels clicking madly on the concrete. But he had to admit to himself that handing over ‘Bertie’ to his mom was pretty damn equal to any good rescue result.

“Oh, Bertie, Bertie, Bertie. I am so happy you are safe.” The little pug was plastering Penny with kisses. “Did you ride on the big Thunderbird? Did you?” Bertie barked and wriggled in her arms. “Well, we won’t let that happen again, will we? No.” More hugs and snuggles.

Virgil arched an eyebrow.

“Where is Mr Gordon?” Parker approached, cracking his knuckles.

“Ah...” Virgil wasn’t sure he was willing to answer that one with that look in Parker’s eyes. “Let’s just say he’s safe, Parker, and leave it at that.”

“Mr Virgil, sir, he caused the Lady such distress. I would like to make sure he understands h’exactly how much.” Okay, protective Parker was fully engaged.

Virgil didn’t like that much at all. Which meant Scott likely liked it a whole heap less.

The engineer took a single step forward, conveniently between the chauffeur and his eldest brother. “Now, Parker, it was an accident. Gordon is very sorry.”

“‘E better be.”

“I am.” And Gordon was standing on the edge of the patio, his whole posture defeated and morose. “I am so sorry, Lady Penelope. Can you ever forgive me?”

Penelope looked up, her lips thin and an eyebrow arched. She didn’t say a thing.

Gordon took that as a negative and somehow, his posture slouched even more. “I understand.” He turned to walk back inside.

“Gordon?” Virgil suddenly found his arms once again full of wriggling pug as Penelope handed the dog back to him and walked towards his little brother. Parker glared.

The aquanaut stopped in his tracks, turning as Penelope approached. She reached out and gently caught his arm. “I wanted to thank you for what you did today.”

“Huh?”

His brother, ever the orator.

Penelope smiled just a little. “Well, you did fly halfway around the world to help Parker rescue Bertie. I know Bertie wasn’t really in trouble, but I do appreciate the thought and the effort, not to mention the unpleasantness with the polecat.”

Gordon grabbed the back of his neck in obvious embarrassment and stared at his feet, but he was standing straighter.

Penelope reached over and touching his chin, raised his head a little to look at her. “Thank you, Gordon.”

Virgil swallowed a grin as his brother flushed scarlet and smiled just a little. “Uh, you’re welcome.”

“Good.” Penelope was smiling at him.

A moment...and the moment passed. “Very well, must go, things to do.” And Penelope was returning to Virgil, lifting Sherbet into her arms and heading to FAB One.

Blink.

“Come, Parker, appointments to attend.”

The chauffeur eyed Virgil a moment making it clear this incident was far from forgotten in his book, shot a caustic look at Gordon and turned back to the car. “Yes, m’Lady.”

Open and shut a couple of car doors, a blast of hot air as she launched, and they were gone.

All three brothers stood there a little stunned.

“Well, that went easier than expected.” Scott, the ever not-fazed.

“Oh, thank god.” Gordon wilted where he was standing. “I thought Parker was going to kill me.”

Virgil smirked. “He still might. I’d keep away from him for a while if I were you.”

“You might be right.” Gordon sighed again. “Oh, I am so glad that is over.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say it was over, little brother.” And Scott was stalking towards the aquanaut. “I believe you and I have some things to discuss.”

“Oh, we do?” Gordon squirmed.

Virgil could almost count it down in his head.

Five.

“Yes, we do.”

Four.

“Uh, are you sure, ‘cause I honestly thought this was all resolved.” Gordon took a step back.

Three.

Scott was definitely taking pleasure out of this. “Oh, no, Gordon. Definitely not resolved.”

Two.

Another step back, ready for launch. “Uh, Scott. You love me, don’t you?”

One.

“Polecat, Gordon. In my cockpit.”

“Ah, yeah?” Gordon ran.

Thunderbird Four was gone.

-o-o-o-

FIN.


End file.
